#carlgallagherxreader

[warnersister]

Ten Minutes For Breakfast

Carl Gallagher x Reader Smut

Police Office! Carl Gallagher x Reader

Carl Gallagher x Reader

Warnings: smut, pure filth, suggested handcuffing, food, etc.

Requested by: @madelynmulford

Carl walked into your shared kitchen, nose following the smell that arose with the cooking of a Wednesday’s breakfast. He couldn’t help but smirk at the image in front of him, leaning against the door frame as if examining your image.

You were cooking his favourite, the typical bacon and eggs, but that wasn’t even the thing that was enticing him. It was the way that his Metallica T-shirt barely skimmed the bottom of your ass. It was the way that he kept almost capturing a glimpse of the lacy underwear adorning your body. It was the way that your hair was messily tied so high that he could see the purple blotches on your neck, reminiscing the night before. It was just a sight for sore eyes.

He looked at the clock above the stove, noting the twenty minutes he had until he was forced to leave for another shift in the dangers of downtown Chicago.

You had failed to notice his presence until two arms wrapped around your waist, lips planting over the previous decoration on your skin, and hips pushed into your own. You turned your head to kiss him with a smile, a gentle hum of “morning baby” emitting from his lips.

“You’re breakfast is almost ready.” You informed him, watching the bacon crackle continuously in the grill. He groaned, lips trailing up your neck and to your collar bone. “I think I’d prefer breakfast in bed.” You knew what he meant, but continued to cook - ignoring his blatantly horny suggestion.

“(Y/n),” He groaned at your ignorance, grinding his hips further into your own. “Carl,” You replied in a sarcastically sadistic tone, similar to his own. “You have to get going in ten minutes.” You told him, almost being able to see his eye role.

You were suddenly spun with a small yelp, being lifted up and placed on the counter-top a distance from the heated food. “What? You don’t think I can make you cum in ten minutes?” His lips ghosted your neck, hands trailing down your frame. A sudden Burt of confidence radiates through you, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “No, I don’t.” The lust-filled irises of a chocolate brown darkened dramatically, a dangerous stop brewing behind the seclusion of his eyes.

“Dangerous game your playing, baby.” He told you, eyes connecting with yours. “Guess we gotta finish it then.” Carl’s lips crashed hungrily into your own, not allowing breaks for oxygen, too desperate by the lack of time. He turned and picked you up with him, your legs automatically circling around his waist until your back was rested against the kitchen table.

Your breath quickened, little kisses being left down your body as he neared your underwear. He lifted the shirt up, examining the barriers keeping him from a good breakfast. The black fabric created an enticing pattern leading down to his well-deserved meal. Almost ripping them, your underwear found the floor, and your thighs found his shoulders.

“You’re fucking dripping.” His voice laced with a teasing venom, a smirk returning to his mouth when he heard your desperate wines. “What’s that? You don’t wanna cum?” He asked, your complaints heightening with noice. You reached your fingers down to his hear, desperately tugging for some sort of relief from his part. He harshly pushed your hands away, a warning glare sent to you from his place on his knees on the floor. “Watch your hands, I will handcuff you to this fucking table, Princess.” He said, a submissive agreement leaving your lips.

“Carl please,” His pushed his thumb roughly against your clit, enjoying the noises leaving your mouth at the sudden contact, small circles being drawn between your legs. “What was that, baby?” “For fucks sake! Please! Please Carl, I need you.” That was enough for him, licking a long, lengthened lick up your pleading cunt. “So much better than eggs and bacon.” He joked, but you couldn’t laugh a long with him, attempting to find some closure for your clouded mind.

His tongue suddenly, delved into your velvet walls, satisfied hums leaving his lips - sending shockwaves of vibrations through your core and straight to your head. “God, Carl.” Your moans were like angel’s whispered, enchanting music playing directly into his ears. He carried on licking and sucking, kissing the most sensitive of areas to heighten the arousal pumping through your veins.

Your legs tensed and he knew your orgasm was near, adding two fingers into your sex for good measure, time control completely discarded. “Come on darling, that’s it, cum for me.” His dominating tone slowly exiting as a soft encouragement edged you to an inevitable defeat to his claim.

The cries ripples through you, stimulation bursting at the seams as the knot in your lower stomach snapped and was lapped up by the delicious licks of his unforgiving tongue. He wiped his lips as he stood, tastebuds already complaining at the loss of the most delicious, the most dangerous, the most luxurious of meals.

The scene in front of him was a sight for sore eyes, the clock in the corner calling his name as if in a trance. Yet he couldn’t look away, only watching you fighting for hushed breaths, eyes closed, and legs trembling as they limply rested against the table.

Your eyes slowly opened, watching Carl look you over carefully, as if studying the most precious of artefacts. His hands gently took yours, pulling you up into the sensuality of a loving embrace. “You okay?” You hummed in agreement, allowing him to lift your chin to peck your lips gently.

“Only took me eight minutes.” You giggled, not caring, and simply letting him gain victory. He picked your underwear up off of the floor, and stuffed them in his back pocket, chuckling at the deathly glare you gave him. You stayed on the table and simply watched him shimmy on the police-coat with was previously rested on the chair.

He walked back over, hands on your hips, and kissed you ever so carefully. “I love you.” He spoke, voice barely above a whisper as his forehead momentarily leant against yours. “I love you too.” He smiled down softly at you, taking a step back to secure his belt and hat.

“Thank you for breakfast baby,” He grinned, looking up at the clock, and you just ‘mhmed’ in a teasingly annoyed tone. “See you at five.” And with that, the door clicked behind him - and you just sat and listened to him drive away. Your consciousness slowly seeped back, and only now did you realise the smoke alarm loudly bleating an iterating warning in your ear - all the food was burnt. You groaned and ran your hands over your face, offering a minute to rub your tired eyes, before hopping onto two unstable legs turning the oven off completely.

“For fucks sake, Carl.”

[warnersister]

Cocky Little Bitch

Carl Gallagher x Reader

Requested by: @gayqueerthatsit

Warnings: smut (18+), swearing, semi-public sex, etc.

My Masterlist

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My Carl Gallagher Masterlist

“Shit.” Carl grabbed your hips, pushing himself deeper into you. “So good for me baby, so good.” He mumbled into your neck, biting and sucking, listening to you moan, and writhe beneath him. Your thighs wrapped around him, as he thrust harder than before, hitting a spot inside of you, that you didn’t know you had. “Not cocky now, are you princess?” He rocked back and forth, sweat gathering on his brows, lacing your bodies. Your legs began to tremble, profanities spilling out of your lips, back arching. “Fuck, cum for me baby.” He told you. “Cum for me.” The noises coming out of your mouth made his eyes roll back, pushing in and out of you slower, an infamous pit growing in his stomach, in a way that his own hands couldn’t muster. The pleasure was overwhelming, veins throbbing as-

“CARL GET YOUR ASS UP! BREAKFAST!” Fiona called up the stairs. Carl suddenly shot up out of bed, drenched in sweat and a hard-on between his legs. He groaned, wiping a hand across his face, realising it was only a dream. He slammed his head onto the pillow, angrily. “CARL!” He heard again. “YEAH, FIONA GIMME A MINUTE!” He replied, not even attempting to hide the frustration in his voice. He was flustered and he couldn’t stand it. “WE GOTTA GO SOON!” He didn’t bother with a snarky reply, too overwhelmed with his own frustrations to give a shit.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, weighing out his options. His head had already made that decision, hands practically tearing off his boxers, quickly working on his issue. His hand moved up and down, angering himself with the way his movements could not compare to yours, despite being a complete and utter fantasy. Spilling allover his hands, he could all but imagine your lips wrapped around him, his cock buried deep inside of you while you pleaded for mercy through that egotistical little mouth of yours.

He rushed to show and dress himself, obviously repeating his ritual under the running water, couldn’t help but imagine fucking you under it. Today was going to be the day. He iterated to himself, over and over again. Today was going to be the day that he silenced that cocky little mouth and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk. (Consenting, of course). Whether he had to drag you into the janitors closet, or tear your clothes off in the middle of first period. Today was going to be the day.

Carl practically shovelled his food into his mouth, ignoring the grimace he received from Fiona, who was just tying to clean. “Bye, Fiona.” He grabbed his bag, which consisted of: pens, his unfinished homework, and almost a million condoms. “Woah, woah we ain’t leaving for another...” Fiona looked down at her wrist, as of looking for a non-existent watch, then back to Carl. “Where you going?” She wasn’t stupid, sometimes he wished that she was. “He’s got a dick appointment with the class president.” Debbie said nonchalantly, biting into her toast an porting an orange juice for herself. Fiona cocked an eyebrow, tearing his bag away from it - pouring the contents onto the floor. “(Y/n) (L/n) is gonna fuck you?” She asked, not believing a word either of her two younger siblings were saying. “Well, I’m gonna try to-” He replied, hurrying to re-pack his bag. “Get outta here.” Those were the only words he needed to speed out of the house, towards his school.

—

He was frustrated. How dare you jog around the gym, those stupid fucking shorts hugging your ass, and that top had to be at least two sizes too small. You looked more fuckable than ever, and Carl wasn’t doing anything about it. Coincidentally, your guys’ gym teacher had left seat, leaving you to lead your class with the lesson. You blew your whistle, but Carl would have preferred it to be his own. “GALLAGHER GET YOUR KNEES UP, WE AREN’T RUNNING A MARATHON!” You shouted at him, sparking a laugh from your peers. But it only angered Carl more, on how he would love to shut your mouth, so you would stop running it.

You carried on yelling at them until Carl just snapped. “Do this.” “Do that.” Like you were queen of the fucking world. He balled his fists tightly. “Gallagher.” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Help me with the basketballs.” You told him, as there were four bags and were unable to carry them all yourself in one trip. “What’s the magic word?” He smirked wildly, and toy shot him an annoyed look. “Now.” Shit, how he was going to shut you up.

You opened the doors to the equipment room, switching the lights on, heading towards the basketballs when you heard the door shut behind Carl. You suddenly felt arms against your shoulders, roughly yet still gently being pushed and pinned to the wall behind you. “You’re a cocky little bitch, aren’t you?” After catching your breath, you could hardly talk, only stutters and splutters spiking from your dumbfounded lips. “Cat got your tongue?” He taunted, teasing you by pushing his body into yours. You whimpered slightly, a warmth growing in your stomach. Carl leaned forward, lips brushing against your own before he pulled back. “Can I?” He asked, you nodded. “Words, baby.” You whined are his comment. “Please,” “Not so boss now, are you?” He said, kissing you roughly before you had the chance to reply.

Before you knew it, you were both stripped of your clothes, dying for the release of each other. He pulled a condom from the pocket of the disgraced shorts on the floor, slipping it on. Your entrance was throbbing screaming at him for a source of pleasure. “You sure?” “For fucks sake, yes!” He instantly pushed himself inside of you, the pain not being an issue as your walls were coated in your own wetness. “Shit.” Carl grabbed your hips, pushing himself deeper into you. “So good for me baby, so good.” He mumbled into your neck, biting and sucking, listening to you moan, and writhe beneath him. Your thighs wrapped around him, as he thrust harder than before, hitting a spot inside of you, that you didn’t know you had. “Not cocky now, are you princess?” He rocked back and forth, sweat gathering on his brows, lacing your bodies. Your legs began to tremble, profanities spilling out of your lips, back arching. “Fuck, cum for me baby.” He told you. “Cum for me.” The noises coming out of your mouth made his eyes roll back, pushing in and out of you slower, an infamous pit growing in his stomach, in a way that his own hands couldn’t muster. The pleasure was overwhelming, veins throbbing as he cummed.

“You’re mine now.” He informed you, listening to you giggle against him, before your eyes widened. “Shit, the basketballs!”

- REQUESTS ARE OPEN -

[warnersister]

Stay.

Carl Gallagher x Reader

“Fuck, baby.” Carl fell next to you on the bed - breathing heavily. It was a continuous cycle of fucking at each others house and then the other would leave, not a word spoken about it. You hated it. And truth was, Carl hated it too. He wanted so badly just to hold you close and kiss you and cradle you into his arms until you fell asleep with him. Not just sex. (Although it was good sex). You both couldn’t get enough. Telling yourselves that this was the last time. But you kept going back for more. The more you fucked, the more that your consciousness ate you up inside - the desperation for each other growing relentless.

Your eyes opened gently, to stare up at the boy - a sheen of sweat covering his body. His face lit up as the lighter lit his cigarette, pulling you close and puffing out after a large drag. He inhaled it deeply, connecting eyes with you as he leaned in, pecking your lips hungrily. You were once again intoxicated by the lust that this man gave you, as he exhaled the nicotine into your mouth.

As he looked at you, all that he could think about was how badly he wanted you to stay. Fiona loved you, Debbie loved you, heck the whole family did, even the grumpy old asshat that came back after getting thrown out of another woman’s house. But he couldn’t find the words. ‘Fuck, (Y/n), I just want to cuddle you and kiss you and protect you and fuck you so hard that you can’t walk, and everyone will know it was me. That those hickey’s on your neck are mine.’ Was that what he was supposed to say?

But Carl was stubborn. All Gallagher’s were. Including you, as you might as well include yourself as one at this point - the amount you were at their place. Carl had a reputation to withhold on the streets, give that up for some whore? No way. But you weren’t a whore. You were his slut, his whore, his baby - sure. But out of the bedroom (or countertop depending on how desperate you both were), you were just his (Y/n). The girl that wouldn’t even glance at him in the hallways. The beauty that sat in front of him in maths. The gorgeous girl that had him wrapped around her little finger and she didn’t even know. He was yours yet neither of you were conscious enough to figure that out. He was confused by you. But he fucking knew that he wanted you to stay, even if that meant yet another round two.

As you began to stand up, you were pushed back down, and found yourself once again beneath Carl Gallagher. But this time, he was gentle. He discarded his cigarette on his bed-side table, leaving yet another mark. He wrapped his hands around you. And he rested his head on your chest. “You ain’t leaving this time, baby.”

(Requests are open - I’m literally begging my inbox is dry and empty asf. 😩😩).

[warnersister]

Neighbours

Carl Gallagher x Reader

I know this isn’t accurate - I haven’t *surprisingly* ever been in Juvie, so this is just based off of the character, and background, really. I know boys, and girls don’t mix in Juvie - just go with it.

“In.” I looked at the guard who pointed to a lone cell. I cocked an eyebrow. “In.” He reiterated I rolled my eyes, as I walked into the small, dull room. A female warden then came in. “Gotta do a pat down.” She said. And I huffed, praying she wouldn’t find anything.

I learnt my hands on the wall, as she used her foot to push my legs apart. “Kinky.” She rolled her eyes. The guard leant down, and her hands circled my ankles, receiving a scoff when she extracted a pocket knife. Then to my waist, where she found a pack of cigarettes. “No don’t take that shit!” I huffed. She stood back when she had finished. The door was locked behind her.

“She took your smokes?” A boy in the cell across asked, leaning against the bars - arms weaving around to support his weight. “What’s it to you?” I mimicked his position, watching as his plaited hair moved as he chuckled. “Gotta whole box in here.” He motioned to the room, behind him. “Don’t smoke.” I replied. “Then why’d you smuggle some in by your ass?” He eyed me. “One, weren’t up my ass. I have some class dipshit.” He shortly laughed, shaking his head. “And two, I have beef with some whore that slept with my ex. I’m the reason she’s in here, bought the slut some cig’s as a peace-offering.” He nodded along.

“So you’re being the bigger person?” I shrugged. “Pussy.” I scoffed. “Then why you in here, huh?” He licked his lips. “Aggravated battery. You?” “Drug and gun dealing.” I hummed. “Respect.” He laughed.

“So you didn’t smuggle smokes in by your ass?” He asked, after a few seconds of silence. “No?” I gave him a look. “How’d you get them in them?” He looked at me questioningly. I lifted my blue shirt only slightly, showing the top of my trousers. “Elasticated waste-band.” I said, pulling it - hearing the snap as it hit against my skin.

“I’ve got something else I could put in your ass.” I looked at him, eyes slightly widened. “The silence don’t mean no.” “The silence ‘don’t’ mean yes either, white boy.” “Do I really look that easy?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Nah but I’m getting hard just looking at your ass in those pants, baby.” He ground his crotch against the bar. I rolled my eyes with a low, faked laugh.

The gum he was chewing smacked, as the bubble popped. “What’s your name, hot-stuff?” He bit his lip, offering a smirk. “(Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n) What’s yours, you horny piece of shit.” I added the last remark. “Carl.” “Carl Gallagher.” “White boy Carl.” I joked. “Decent nickname, but I think I prefer daddy.” He growled. “Okay tiger calm down.”

“They letting us out in five. Get two hours.” He gave a suggestive look with his eyes. “I’m not good for a quick fuck, Gallagher. If I was a hooker, I’d have standards.” I said, looking him up, and down - head to toe. “Ouch, princess. Don’t even wanna have a chat?” He shrugged. “Is your ass jealous, with the amount of shit coming out of your mouth?” I asked. “Woah! Woah! Woah! I’m just tryna get to know my sexy neighbour.” He smirked.

“I don’t wanna get to know mine.” I responded. “Gonna need some one to protect you, doll.” “I can protect myself.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” “You, and what weapon?” I looked down at my feet, not responding. “Cat got your tongue?” I loudly exhaled at his comment.

“Fine, Gallagher.”

I heard a loud buzz, which I assumed meant that our break was about to commence. My door opened, as did everyone else’s on the cell-block.

He walked towards me, and squared up, looking down slightly at me. “But don’t think for one second that you’re getting into my pants.” I warned, pointing a finger, at him. He loudly, and quickly snapped his teeth, pretending to go to bite my finger - and I lowered it, shaking my head at the boy. “In my wildest dreams, hot stuff.” His arm making it’s way over my shoulder, glaring; at anyone who even breathed in our direction - trying to look at the new member, to the block. The guards slowly circling the grounds, like hungry sharks, tasers, and batons at the ready.

“You need a shower.” I told Carl, pushing his arm off of my shoulder, laughing a short, whole-hearted; laugh. “Care to join?” He offered. “Oh fuck you.” I huffed. “What time?” He winked, the same arm, going to encircle my waist. “You seem like a pain in the ass.” I told him, as we stopped, (in what I assumed to be), the courtyard. “Thank you.” He grinned.

For fucks sake, (L/n). Pull. Yourself. Together.

[warnersister]

British Bitch.

Carl Gallagher x Reader

My Masterlist

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My Carl Gallagher Masterlist

You were the new girl in school. The only British kid for miles. Safe to say, you hated it. You had befriended Debbie Gallagher, her having informed you of her juvenile-destined brother, as well as the fact that he only thought with his dick, instead of his brain.

“He gets out today.” She told you, a week ago, rolling her eyes.

“Is he really that much of a twat?” You asked, today, and she laughed - agreeing with you, before making her way to her class, as you made my way to: your own.

You had physics first period, so you made your way to Mr. Hoffman’s class room, he was sleeping at his desk, (as per usual), snoring slightly, as you sat in your seat; situated, in the second, to last: row.

In the row behind, and a couple seats across - an unfamiliar boy, was sat there; feet on the table, chewing-gun loudly snacking in his mouth, hands intertwined behind his head, and an obnoxious smirk - gracing his face.

He noticed your light-stare, and immediately straightened up, pushing his plaited hair back, taking his feet hand, placing his hands on the table, and putting his chewing-gum under the table. He made a distinct kissing noise, and offered you a wink.

The entirety lesson, spent: just copying notes from the board. Ignoring the goo-goo eyes, boarding into the back of your head. “Yo babe, you wanna sneak out?” You heard, and you turned your head - eyes joining with him, whom sat behind. “Are you talking to me?” You raised your eyebrows, an unimpressed look, on your face.

“Of course I’m talking to you hot stuff.” He winked. “No thanks, piss off.” You had replied, returning to your previous position, of board-copying. You heard a scoff, via your remark. “You got a funny accent, where you from?” He continued with his queries - (much to your dismay). “England.” You answered, shortly.

“British girl? Sexy.” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips. You turned around, to face him again. “Making me hard just listening to you, hot stuff.” He groaned, and grabbed at his clothed crotch.

It was to be a long period, of him just *attempting*, to pursue you, the whole time. Of course, failing.

“This kid that’s trying to be black was pathetically flirting, all of first period.” You complained to Debbie, at break - standing in the open-air, for a few minutes - informing your friend off the odd morning, that had ensued. “Wait did you say-” She began, but was cut off, by a newly-familiar voice.

“Hola baby.” The kid from earlier bit his lip, approaching you. “Oh god.” You rolled your eyes, as he stood in front of you, a small smirk making its way, onto his lips, once more. “(Y/n), meet my brother, Carl.” She introduced you, hands running over her face, in an annoyed way.

“Carl, leave her alone.” She began to talk to him, noticeably tired, of her younger brother’s antics. “Fuck off white girl, I don’t know you.” He turned back to you, his cocky expression, returning.

“Fuck off.” You told him, scoffing. “Damn girl, why you gotta do me like that? I’m just trying to talk to the girl of my dreams.” He said, clutching at his heart. “Okay, Shakespeare.” You rolled your eyes. “Me, you, tonight.” He said, arm encircling around your shoulder. You pushed him off, causing an audible groan, from his part. The bell rung.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, baby.” He told you. “You don’t know where I live.” You retorted, cocking an eyebrow. “Debbie does.” He shrugged. “I thought you didn’t know her?” You offered a snarky remark, one of which - he stayed silent to, in response. He began to change the subject. “But,-” He held something in his hand. “You will want this back,” Your phone, sat, in his hand - pleading for your retrieval, from you. “, and if you do... which you will, you’ll have to come get it.” He gave a light tap on your arse, and a wink.

“Fuck you.” You told him, shoving him away from you, with a harsh push. “What time?” He smiled. “Bugger off Carl, it’s not gonna happen.” You approached him, feeling each other’s breath; on your cheeks. You heard the oxygen halt, in his throat. “And thanks.” You winked at the pick-pocket, showing him, that you hand stole: your own phone back.

“Seven.” He shouted after you, as you walked off.

“Fuck off.” You replied.

He chuckled, you were a challenge, he liked that. He wanted...

You.

[warnersister]

Morning, Mrs Gallagher

Carl Gallagher x Reader

Not my best work, but I’m gonna do a yandere! Carl, real soon!... 👀

My Masterlist

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My Carl Gallagher Masterlist

I groaned, stretching as I sat up. I looked around the room, to see it wasn’t mine, (nor Carl’s, who was strewn across the bedding). I pushed him, gently. “Carl.” I said. I pushed him a bit harder. “Carl!” I rolled my eyes, and started shaking him back, and forth - until I heard him groan. “CARL!” “Good morning to you too.” He answered, sitting up next to me.

My head started pounding, and as for the looks of it - so did Carl’s. “Where the fuck are we?” I asked, as he got up to try, and find some Aspirin. He opened the curtains, and we both hissed, at the sudden increase in light. “I think I have an idea.” He pointed at the sign across the road, from, (what I guessed was), the motel.

‘Welcome to Las Vegas!’

The sign read, and we each looked at each other - taking the pills he had found in my bag. “The fuck did we do last night?” I asked, standing up, and doing a full; three-sixty, of the room.

Carl picked up a slip of paper, which was by the TV. “Well, fuck.” He swore, and threw me the paper. “Morning, Mrs Gallagher.” “Shit.” I cursed. It was a marriage certificate, as well as my last name - now listed as Gallagher.

“Did we fucking get married?” Carl asked, running his hands through his hair.

*Flashback*

*Third Person*

(Y/n), and Carl were just fucking around. Drunk off of their minds. Taking beer, after beer. They were laid underneath the train tracks, watching as train, after train, passed by. “(Y/n)?” Carl looked at her. “Yeah?” She looked back at him. But he didn’t say anything, he just leaned in, and captured his lips, with her own.

He rolled them both, so that she was underneath him, and he was straddling her lap. He pulled back, and admired his girlfriend - as a drunken hiccup escaped from her lips. “Marry me.” He said. “What, did you just say?” It sobered her slightly. He pulled her up, so that they were face-to-face. “Marry me.” He said again, looking into her eyes. She stared at him blankly. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” They both burst out laughing, in a fit of non-sober giggles. “Yes.” He looked at her for a moment, before picking her up bridal style, and spinning her around in his arms.

“Who will take us?” She asked, and they looked at each other. “Steve.”

**

“Steve, will you take us to Vegas?” Carl asked, drunk off of his head. The man laughed. “Yeah sure, where am I taking ya?” “A courthouse.” Carl looked at (Y/n), who was also hammered, and stroked her cheek - grinning as she giggled. “Getting hitched?” Steve took a swig of his beer, before getting his jacket on.

“Come on lovebirds, in the car.” He found this hilarious, as he pushed them into the backseat.

He heard a continuous giggling, and the noise of a zipper was the final straw. “HEY NO SEX IN MY FUCKING CAR!” He yelled, and the teens straightened up. “It’s not like it’s actually yours.” (Y/n) said, causing both of them to laugh.

**

As they pulled up to the city that wall full of life, despite it being two in the morning. “Here.” He passed them two believable fake ID’s, that said that they were eighteen, and unlocked the doors. “You crazy kids have fun.” He said, after handing them two-hundred dollars.

“DON’T GET HER PREGNANT!” And with that, they entered the small church - on the outskirts of the casino-village.

*End Of Flashback*

*First Person*

“When in Vegas.” He grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge. “That’s Rome dipshit. Put that back, it’s gonna cost an arm, and a leg.” “Okay, god wives do nag.” I threw the pillow at him. “Fuck you.” “Cool. Now?” I rolled my eyes.

“Are you being fucking serious.” I walked up to him, and put the paper of the table, pushing his chest. He grabbed my wrists, and pinned me against the walk, my legs wrapping around his torso.

“You complaining?” He asked, between lettering kisses, onto my lips. “You seem calm about this.” I told him, squinting my eyes. “Please, it takes more than that to get me stupidly drunk.” He rolled his eyes.

“So you-” “I was gonna make you my wife, one way, or another. You just happened to be fucked, while it happened.” He shrugged. “I hate you.” “That’s no way to talk to your husband, Mrs Gallagher.” I huffed at him, but before I could yell - the phone went, and it seemed as though Fiona was gonna do that for me.

“YOU’RE FUCKING SIXTEEN! GET YOUR ASSES BACK IN CHICAGO!-”

He hung up.

“Oops.”

*Requests Open*

[melbi6969]

woah

Cocky Little Bitch

Carl Gallagher x Reader

Requested by: @gayqueerthatsit

Warnings: smut (18+), swearing, semi-public sex, etc.

My Masterlist

My Shameless Masterlist

My Carl Gallagher Masterlist

“Shit.” Carl grabbed your hips, pushing himself deeper into you. “So good for me baby, so good.” He mumbled into your neck, biting and sucking, listening to you moan, and writhe beneath him. Your thighs wrapped around him, as he thrust harder than before, hitting a spot inside of you, that you didn’t know you had. “Not cocky now, are you princess?” He rocked back and forth, sweat gathering on his brows, lacing your bodies. Your legs began to tremble, profanities spilling out of your lips, back arching. “Fuck, cum for me baby.” He told you. “Cum for me.” The noises coming out of your mouth made his eyes roll back, pushing in and out of you slower, an infamous pit growing in his stomach, in a way that his own hands couldn’t muster. The pleasure was overwhelming, veins throbbing as-

“CARL GET YOUR ASS UP! BREAKFAST!” Fiona called up the stairs. Carl suddenly shot up out of bed, drenched in sweat and a hard-on between his legs. He groaned, wiping a hand across his face, realising it was only a dream. He slammed his head onto the pillow, angrily. “CARL!” He heard again. “YEAH, FIONA GIMME A MINUTE!” He replied, not even attempting to hide the frustration in his voice. He was flustered and he couldn’t stand it. “WE GOTTA GO SOON!” He didn’t bother with a snarky reply, too overwhelmed with his own frustrations to give a shit.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, weighing out his options. His head had already made that decision, hands practically tearing off his boxers, quickly working on his issue. His hand moved up and down, angering himself with the way his movements could not compare to yours, despite being a complete and utter fantasy. Spilling allover his hands, he could all but imagine your lips wrapped around him, his cock buried deep inside of you while you pleaded for mercy through that egotistical little mouth of yours.

He rushed to show and dress himself, obviously repeating his ritual under the running water, couldn’t help but imagine fucking you under it. Today was going to be the day. He iterated to himself, over and over again. Today was going to be the day that he silenced that cocky little mouth and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk. (Consenting, of course). Whether he had to drag you into the janitors closet, or tear your clothes off in the middle of first period. Today was going to be the day.

Carl practically shovelled his food into his mouth, ignoring the grimace he received from Fiona, who was just tying to clean. “Bye, Fiona.” He grabbed his bag, which consisted of: pens, his unfinished homework, and almost a million condoms. “Woah, woah we ain’t leaving for another...” Fiona looked down at her wrist, as of looking for a non-existent watch, then back to Carl. “Where you going?” She wasn’t stupid, sometimes he wished that she was. “He’s got a dick appointment with the class president.” Debbie said nonchalantly, biting into her toast an porting an orange juice for herself. Fiona cocked an eyebrow, tearing his bag away from it - pouring the contents onto the floor. “(Y/n) (L/n) is gonna fuck you?” She asked, not believing a word either of her two younger siblings were saying. “Well, I’m gonna try to-” He replied, hurrying to re-pack his bag. “Get outta here.” Those were the only words he needed to speed out of the house, towards his school.

—

He was frustrated. How dare you jog around the gym, those stupid fucking shorts hugging your ass, and that top had to be at least two sizes too small. You looked more fuckable than ever, and Carl wasn’t doing anything about it. Coincidentally, your guys’ gym teacher had left seat, leaving you to lead your class with the lesson. You blew your whistle, but Carl would have preferred it to be his own. “GALLAGHER GET YOUR KNEES UP, WE AREN’T RUNNING A MARATHON!” You shouted at him, sparking a laugh from your peers. But it only angered Carl more, on how he would love to shut your mouth, so you would stop running it.

You carried on yelling at them until Carl just snapped. “Do this.” “Do that.” Like you were queen of the fucking world. He balled his fists tightly. “Gallagher.” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Help me with the basketballs.” You told him, as there were four bags and were unable to carry them all yourself in one trip. “What’s the magic word?” He smirked wildly, and toy shot him an annoyed look. “Now.” Shit, how he was going to shut you up.

You opened the doors to the equipment room, switching the lights on, heading towards the basketballs when you heard the door shut behind Carl. You suddenly felt arms against your shoulders, roughly yet still gently being pushed and pinned to the wall behind you. “You’re a cocky little bitch, aren’t you?” After catching your breath, you could hardly talk, only stutters and splutters spiking from your dumbfounded lips. “Cat got your tongue?” He taunted, teasing you by pushing his body into yours. You whimpered slightly, a warmth growing in your stomach. Carl leaned forward, lips brushing against your own before he pulled back. “Can I?” He asked, you nodded. “Words, baby.” You whined are his comment. “Please,” “Not so boss now, are you?” He said, kissing you roughly before you had the chance to reply.

Before you knew it, you were both stripped of your clothes, dying for the release of each other. He pulled a condom from the pocket of the disgraced shorts on the floor, slipping it on. Your entrance was throbbing screaming at him for a source of pleasure. “You sure?” “For fucks sake, yes!” He instantly pushed himself inside of you, the pain not being an issue as your walls were coated in your own wetness. “Shit.” Carl grabbed your hips, pushing himself deeper into you. “So good for me baby, so good.” He mumbled into your neck, biting and sucking, listening to you moan, and writhe beneath him. Your thighs wrapped around him, as he thrust harder than before, hitting a spot inside of you, that you didn’t know you had. “Not cocky now, are you princess?” He rocked back and forth, sweat gathering on his brows, lacing your bodies. Your legs began to tremble, profanities spilling out of your lips, back arching. “Fuck, cum for me baby.” He told you. “Cum for me.” The noises coming out of your mouth made his eyes roll back, pushing in and out of you slower, an infamous pit growing in his stomach, in a way that his own hands couldn’t muster. The pleasure was overwhelming, veins throbbing as he cummed.

“You’re mine now.” He informed you, listening to you giggle against him, before your eyes widened. “Shit, the basketballs!”

- REQUESTS ARE OPEN -

[partofmejustwantstosleep]

Okay I really love this. Like seriously

Stay.

Carl Gallagher x Reader

“Fuck, baby.” Carl fell next to you on the bed - breathing heavily. It was a continuous cycle of fucking at each others house and then the other would leave, not a word spoken about it. You hated it. And truth was, Carl hated it too. He wanted so badly just to hold you close and kiss you and cradle you into his arms until you fell asleep with him. Not just sex. (Although it was good sex). You both couldn’t get enough. Telling yourselves that this was the last time. But you kept going back for more. The more you fucked, the more that your consciousness ate you up inside - the desperation for each other growing relentless.

Your eyes opened gently, to stare up at the boy - a sheen of sweat covering his body. His face lit up as the lighter lit his cigarette, pulling you close and puffing out after a large drag. He inhaled it deeply, connecting eyes with you as he leaned in, pecking your lips hungrily. You were once again intoxicated by the lust that this man gave you, as he exhaled the nicotine into your mouth.

As he looked at you, all that he could think about was how badly he wanted you to stay. Fiona loved you, Debbie loved you, heck the whole family did, even the grumpy old asshat that came back after getting thrown out of another woman’s house. But he couldn’t find the words. ‘Fuck, (Y/n), I just want to cuddle you and kiss you and protect you and fuck you so hard that you can’t walk, and everyone will know it was me. That those hickey’s on your neck are mine.’ Was that what he was supposed to say?

But Carl was stubborn. All Gallagher’s were. Including you, as you might as well include yourself as one at this point - the amount you were at their place. Carl had a reputation to withhold on the streets, give that up for some whore? No way. But you weren’t a whore. You were his slut, his whore, his baby - sure. But out of the bedroom (or countertop depending on how desperate you both were), you were just his (Y/n). The girl that wouldn’t even glance at him in the hallways. The beauty that sat in front of him in maths. The gorgeous girl that had him wrapped around her little finger and she didn’t even know. He was yours yet neither of you were conscious enough to figure that out. He was confused by you. But he fucking knew that he wanted you to stay, even if that meant yet another round two.

As you began to stand up, you were pushed back down, and found yourself once again beneath Carl Gallagher. But this time, he was gentle. He discarded his cigarette on his bed-side table, leaving yet another mark. He wrapped his hands around you. And he rested his head on your chest. “You ain’t leaving this time, baby.”

(Requests are open - I’m literally begging my inbox is dry and empty asf. 😩😩).

[partofmejustwantstosleep]

Love.

British Bitch.

Carl Gallagher x Reader

My Masterlist

My Shameless Masterlist

My Carl Gallagher Masterlist

You were the new girl in school. The only British kid for miles. Safe to say, you hated it. You had befriended Debbie Gallagher, her having informed you of her juvenile-destined brother, as well as the fact that he only thought with his dick, instead of his brain.

“He gets out today.” She told you, a week ago, rolling her eyes.

“Is he really that much of a twat?” You asked, today, and she laughed - agreeing with you, before making her way to her class, as you made my way to: your own.

You had physics first period, so you made your way to Mr. Hoffman’s class room, he was sleeping at his desk, (as per usual), snoring slightly, as you sat in your seat; situated, in the second, to last: row.

In the row behind, and a couple seats across - an unfamiliar boy, was sat there; feet on the table, chewing-gun loudly snacking in his mouth, hands intertwined behind his head, and an obnoxious smirk - gracing his face.

He noticed your light-stare, and immediately straightened up, pushing his plaited hair back, taking his feet hand, placing his hands on the table, and putting his chewing-gum under the table. He made a distinct kissing noise, and offered you a wink.

The entirety lesson, spent: just copying notes from the board. Ignoring the goo-goo eyes, boarding into the back of your head. “Yo babe, you wanna sneak out?” You heard, and you turned your head - eyes joining with him, whom sat behind. “Are you talking to me?” You raised your eyebrows, an unimpressed look, on your face.

“Of course I’m talking to you hot stuff.” He winked. “No thanks, piss off.” You had replied, returning to your previous position, of board-copying. You heard a scoff, via your remark. “You got a funny accent, where you from?” He continued with his queries - (much to your dismay). “England.” You answered, shortly.

“British girl? Sexy.” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips. You turned around, to face him again. “Making me hard just listening to you, hot stuff.” He groaned, and grabbed at his clothed crotch.

It was to be a long period, of him just *attempting*, to pursue you, the whole time. Of course, failing.

“This kid that’s trying to be black was pathetically flirting, all of first period.” You complained to Debbie, at break - standing in the open-air, for a few minutes - informing your friend off the odd morning, that had ensued. “Wait did you say-” She began, but was cut off, by a newly-familiar voice.

“Hola baby.” The kid from earlier bit his lip, approaching you. “Oh god.” You rolled your eyes, as he stood in front of you, a small smirk making its way, onto his lips, once more. “(Y/n), meet my brother, Carl.” She introduced you, hands running over her face, in an annoyed way.

“Carl, leave her alone.” She began to talk to him, noticeably tired, of her younger brother’s antics. “Fuck off white girl, I don’t know you.” He turned back to you, his cocky expression, returning.

“Fuck off.” You told him, scoffing. “Damn girl, why you gotta do me like that? I’m just trying to talk to the girl of my dreams.” He said, clutching at his heart. “Okay, Shakespeare.” You rolled your eyes. “Me, you, tonight.” He said, arm encircling around your shoulder. You pushed him off, causing an audible groan, from his part. The bell rung.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, baby.” He told you. “You don’t know where I live.” You retorted, cocking an eyebrow. “Debbie does.” He shrugged. “I thought you didn’t know her?” You offered a snarky remark, one of which - he stayed silent to, in response. He began to change the subject. “But,-” He held something in his hand. “You will want this back,” Your phone, sat, in his hand - pleading for your retrieval, from you. “, and if you do... which you will, you’ll have to come get it.” He gave a light tap on your arse, and a wink.

“Fuck you.” You told him, shoving him away from you, with a harsh push. “What time?” He smiled. “Bugger off Carl, it’s not gonna happen.” You approached him, feeling each other’s breath; on your cheeks. You heard the oxygen halt, in his throat. “And thanks.” You winked at the pick-pocket, showing him, that you hand stole: your own phone back.

“Seven.” He shouted after you, as you walked off.

“Fuck off.” You replied.

He chuckled, you were a challenge, he liked that. He wanted...

You.